


The First Passion, and the Last

by Dancingsalome



Series: A Little Less Than Kin [9]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Innuendo, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingsalome/pseuds/Dancingsalome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor gets a proposal. One he had never imagined he would recieve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Passion, and the Last

**Author's Note:**

> This story can be read as an one-shot, but is actually part of a series short fics where River Song meets the Master in various incarnations. For River Song this story takes place after Passing Ships. For the Master this takes place after Dead Girls Like Us.
> 
> I always felt one of the reasons the Doctor is attracted to River is because she's a lot like the Master, only not evil. And the logical route, for me at least, would be that River would probably be attracted to the Master because s/he's a lot like the Doctor, but without the inhibitions.
> 
> The title comes from a quote from Samuel Johnson; _Curiosity is, in great and generous minds, the first passion and the last._
> 
> Thanks to lost_spook for beta-Reading.

The Doctor stepped outside his TARDIS. For once she had landed exactly where she was supposed to - Earth in the late nineteenth century. More specifically in Paris, close to a rather charming hotel located at Montmartre. Almost on the right date too, he gathered as he consulted his surroundings and then double checked it with the note in his hand. It was a note that had reached him in such a labyrinthine and complicated manner he had known who had sent it before he had even managed to find out what the message was. But now he had and here he was and, even if he tried to look indifferent, it wasn’t how he felt.

At a table outside a small café the reason for his visit was sitting, drinking tisane while she chatted amiably with her companion. River had made a somewhat dubious attempt to blend in wearing a long tan skirt and a white blouse. She even wore a hat though it perched in her wild hair as if it was lost and unsure of any hope of rescue. But if River didn’t fit in, the woman she was having an animated conversation with did. She was slender and elegant in a well-fitted purple morning dress; her dark hair swept up underneath a very modish hat, giving the Doctor a most unwelcome view of an elegant profile with sharp cheekbones and pale blue eyes.

As he approached, River looked up and gave him a blinding smile. “Hello sweetie. You took your time.”

The other woman sniffed. “If you knew how to properly pilot your TARDIS you wouldn’t be so late. It’s not good manners to be tardy, you know.”

The Doctor bit back a scathing retort on his ability to handle his TARDIS and turned to his wife instead. “River, do you have any idea who this is?”

“Of course I do; it’s Missy.”

He ground his teeth, still refusing to look at the other woman who had put down her cup and sat listening with a small smile on her lips. “Right. Missy, short for Master.”

River gave her table company a fond glance. “I know. What do you take me for?”

“You know the Master?” The Doctor sat down while Missy considerately poured him a cup of tisane. He took a large gulp in a distracted manner and then choked on the hot liquid as she answered him.

“River and I know each other intimately, my dear.”

There was a short pause while the Doctor sputtered and coughed. River helpfully thumped his back.

“Actually,” she said when he had calmed down. “We don’t. Not yet.”

“Well, not in this regeneration,” Missy said. “That’s true.”

The Doctor had a growing feeling of having been spun around and dumped into the middle of a long-standing conversation. It was usually the other way around and it felt thoroughly uncomfortable. “What do you mean, not in this regeneration? You mean you have had, with her - him - before?”

“With at least three other wives floating around in time, not to mention girlfriends, did you really expect me to only stick to you?”

“Of course not, but the Master?”

“Why not?”

“She’s evil, manipulative and scheming and that’s just the nicest things one can say about her.”

“True, but-”

“Actually, when you think about it,” Missy interrupted, “It couldn’t possibly be anyone else.”

“Exactly,” River continued. “She’s almost on a par with you.”

“Why, thank you,” Missy said without rancour.

The Doctor gave up on ignoring Missy. “I’d have thought you’d have disapproved - you usually do with my companions.”

“That’s only because your taste usually leaves a lot to be desired.” She turned to River. “Have you met his current one yet? Clara?”

River shook her head. “No.”

“No matter,” Missy said cheerfully. “She’s so cute, you just want to cuddle her. Or throttle her, depending on how yappy she is. But then I chose her myself after much consideration. Anyway, the point is, when it comes to dear River here, she is almost up to my exacting standards.”

River stuck out her tongue at her. “I’ve never heard you complain.”

Missy patted her hand. “Of course not.”

The Doctor had been following their exchange with mounting alarm. “So, what you’re saying is that I have, unknowingly, been living in a ménage à trois with the Master the whole time?”

Missy gave him her most wide-eyed and innocent look. “Who do you think taught her everything she knows about handcuffs? And don’t tell me you haven't appreciated that particular little skill?”

River nodded. “Though technically that time at Luna University was before we was married.”

“And,” Missy continued, “one could argue that you were separated at the time of the otter experience.”

Both women burst out laughing, much to the Doctor’s horror. River turned to him.

“We did tell you back then.”

“You did not!”

“Told you he was too drunk to remember,” Missy murmured into her cup. “But not when I was Prime Minister. Somehow she didn’t find me very charming then, can’t think why. Perhaps the lack of a beard?”

“Very likely,” River said. “Sweetie, why did you never grow a beard?”

“I never had to hide a weak chin.”

“Meanie,” Missy pouted. “You know perfectly well I always had fully adequate chins.”

“You still have, darling. And no beard either, so it can’t have been that anyway.”

“And we really didn’t invite you here to discuss appearances.“

“No. See, as timelines goes we seem to be on an unusually equal footing at the moment, so we-”

“You-”

“All right, Missy. _I_ wanted to clear things up before we proceeded. So you know how things stand.”

“You didn’t consider that I might have been happier not knowing?”

“Possibly, but we-”

“That’s a we, by the way, not an I,” Missy said.

"We thought you might like to join in.”

“Seeing you were too drunk the last time.”

In his long and varied life, the Doctor had rarely admitted to being defeated, but now, he felt, he was utterly outmanoeuvred. He stood, giving the both women his best glare. “Fine, do what you like. But I am not interested!”

He stomped back to the TARDIS, shutting the door with a loud bang. The people on the busy street hardly glanced at him.

“Funny,” River commented. “How people never seem to find it strange when a blue box plops down in their midst out of nowhere.

“People just aren’t very observant, dear.”

“Very true. More tisane?”

“Yes, please.”

They smiled at each other and sipped their beverage in silence for a while.

“He hasn’t left yet,” Missy pointed out eventually.

“I know. Just wait a little bit longer. You know the Doctor, if there’s one thing that never fails him, it’s his curiosity. He always has to find out what happens next.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this fic stood on it’s own legs, but it also fits in a series of fic about River and the Master/Missy, as timelines goes, this fic takes place after _Dead Girl’s Like Us_ for Missy and before for River.


End file.
